The Quarian Kal'Reegars Pilgrimage
by Fenrisfil
Summary: Kal'Reegar's been on his pilgrimage for a while. After time spent roaming the Terminus system and working for a Turian smuggler, he has received an offer almost too good to be true from none other then the Shadow Broker. Where will all this take him?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Few Quarians ever step foot in Nos Astra. They aren't missing much. For all it's glamour and sex appeal, the place is little better than a Batarian pirate den. It's like a shiny apple, making your mouth water just looking at it, but take a bite and you find it's bitter and full of parasites. Fortunate for me then, I don't eat apples. Still, the place is certainly clean, that at least is a relief. I don't know quite how they get it so spotless, but every surface seems bright, clean and shiny. Some of the places I've been to on my pilgrimage have been so dirty I spent the whole time focused on how quickly I could die from an infection were I to receive a suit puncture.

As I enter the central commerce hub I find myself engulfed by the sounds of traders going about their business. The Volus are the loudest here, shouting out what must count for a battle cry on their homeworld "Sell Now!" they hiss in that wheezy voice of theirs. In between, I can hear the frantic chattering of the Salarian traders, trying to play all the angles at once so they have some chance of making their fortunes before the end of their brief lives and under all of it like a dull hum in the background is the quiet patient song of the Asari, biding their time. Probably just waiting for the Volus to finally shut up or the Salarians to die (which from my experience is probably more likely).

The main trade floor is wall to wall market terminals, filled to the brim with eager punters that can't wait to part with their credits to buy the fashion accessory of the day or the newest and most expensive tools with which to deal out painful and bloody deaths. Weapons are amongst the most popular of trade goods here. With the proximity to the Terminus Systems, demand for death is always high and Illium likes to make sure the supply is equal to it. I make my way quickly through the crowds. Despite being the only one of my species here everyone seems far too focused on their own greed to give me more than a passing glance.

Today, I have business here too. I have a lead on a valuable bit of merchandise, but acquiring it requires doing a favour for the Shadow Broker. Not a position I would normally choose to be in, but I have already been on my pilgrimage for some time and this was too good an opportunity to pass up. I'm here to meet an agent for the Broker, a Human by the name of Salvador Crux. Meeting Humans creeps me out at the best of times, but meeting a human Shadow Broker agent may well be my limit. In many ways it's like meeting my own ancestors. They are so young as a race, yet so familiar, so like the stories I've heard about the Quarians, before the Geth, before the suits and before our endless convoy across the stars to destination nowhere. They represent all we've lost and all our mistakes, only they are yet to make them. It's no surprise that whenever I hear stories about rogue A.I.'s, there is always a Human involved. The greatest trap, is the one we make for ourselves.

The Agents office is near the trade floor, up a short flight of stairs. Not very fancy compared to everything else I've seem so far. At the top, I find a large service desk complete with an Asari secretary peering down her nose at me. She looks over me so thoroughly I feel the need to run an extra disinfecting routine on my suit. "You're late," she said accusingly. "Mr Crux does not like to be kept waiting!"

I let that hang for a moment, I'm already late after all. I could tell that annoyed her, probably as much for the fact that she couldn't read my expressions through my mask as for my unwillingness to play the scared little Quarian for her. I said: "Well then, maybe he shouldn't be kept waiting any longer?".

She sneers at me and I could tell there were calculations going on behind her eyes. I'm not sure I'd be too thrilled with what they were calculating. Without taking her disapproval off of me she activated her intercom. "Mr. Crux, the Quarian has arrived."

"Thank you Nyxeris, show Mr. Reegar in will you." returned the disembodied reply from the intercom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The administrators office was a simple place. The most impressive thing there was the view overlooking the market floor, mostly dominated by the giant illuminated trade feed for the NAE. A simple desk stood in the middle of the simple room filled with private terminals that were far from simple. There was no personal touch here, the rest of the room looked like a warehouse container, very dry, very metallic. Reminded me of my room back home, or rather my old room back on my old home. When I return to the fleet, I will have to find a new one. The only other furnishings in the room were an assortment of metal crates, two basic plastic chairs on this side of the desk for visitors, grey and uninteresting and one large comfortable looking leather chair on the other, currently occupied by one Salvador Crux.

The man himself was much smaller than I expected. His skin was tanned, his eyes were dark and beady and his black hair was short and greasy looking. He wore a white designer business suit that looked more expensive than the entire contents of this office, including those terminals. He had a smile that made me think of a Varren sizing up a potential meal.

"Mr. Reegar, pleasure to meet you." he said, the pleasure was evidently not his. "Please, take a seat and then lets discuss the Geth".

I sat down on one of the basic plastic chairs. It wasn't particular comfortable, but then I'm used to that. "I was informed that you're willing to trade some Geth technology for a favour of some sort. I wasn't given any details, but I should warn you, I'm neither an assassin nor a hired thug, so if that is what you are after you can forget it right now." I said, although the truth was I had already been doing some morally questionable work, so I would have still considered it, but it doesn't hurt to at least start on some moral high ground.

Crux laughed. "That's cute Mr Reegar, but I think you'll find that someone as well connected as the Shadowbroker would not need to resort to hiring a Quarian for muscle." I caught a slight sneer as he said the word Quarian. He probably didn't think I noticed. I started to notice the number of ways I knew to kill him with my bare hands. I figured on about twelve that would be quiet enough not to alert anyone. If I hadn't been disarmed on arrival here, there would have been considerably more.

"So what do you want from me?" I asked. Crux paused for a moment to check something on one of his monitors, whatever it was it made him frown.

"Have you ever seen a Geth, Mr. Reegar?" It sounded like a stupid question, but he said it in all seriousness, like I made a habit of making friends with them.

"Not in person. Geth don't come beyond the Veil. They certainly don't pop around the migrant fleet for drinks." I had my doubts that the Geth never went beyond the Veil, but I kept those to myself. If the Broker managed to get hold of Geth technology then chances are Geth have been beyond the veil as the odds are even worse for someone salvaging Geth technology from the inside.

"But as a member of the species that created them, you are familiar with their technology at least?"

I figured the question was rhetorical, so I didn't answer it. "Enough messing around. Why am I here?"

"There are several reasons we asked you to assist us Mr. Reegar. First of all as a Quarian you have technical skills and are not entirely unfamiliar with Geth technology. Secondly as one on his pilgrimage, no one will expect you to be working for us. Finally we know all about the quality of your military training. Head of Admiral Gerrels class I believe. While we hope you will have no need of it on this task, we feel more comfortable having someone with it than without." I wasn't liking where this was going. Geth are the things of nightmares for every Quarian. They are the 300 year old boogeyman that is never seen, but always feared. Bringing Geth technology to the fleet could guarantee me a place on virtually any ship in the fleet. But I wasn't planing on a mission into the Perseus to get it. The only ship that will get me a place on is the one that sails to destination oblivion.

Crux continued: "I can understand your hesitation. But rest assured the task does not involve the Geth themselves. At least not any active ones." He flashed that Varren smile again at that last bit. He knew he had me with that. "What we need you to do, is track down a missing agent of ours, an Asari by the name of Monata T'Mar. On her last communication to us, she reported the acquisition of a dormant Geth platform. That was several days ago and she has failed to report in since. Her last known location was the Batarian planet Lorek."

That didn't sit right with me at all. "None of that makes a lot of sense to me. How did an Asari get hold of a dormant Geth, why send me after her instead of some of your Broker pawns and most importantly what exactly am I getting out of it? A Geth foot you're going to hack off as a thank you?"

"The Shadowbroker wishes to avoid direct involvement in this mater. The fact that a covert agent of ours appears to have been compromised is bad enough already. If we're lucky her ties to us have not been discovered, but we don't want to push that matter further. However, as I said before, you're a Quarian on your pilgrimage, you've had no dealings with us before and no one will question your interest in Geth technology." Salvador Crux rose from his desk and casually strolled to the observation window. He spent what seemed like several minutes staring out of it, like I was no longer in the room. I said nothing. Eventually he continued: "The platform itself is of no consequence to us and you're welcome to whatever is left of it as your reward, we will however require it's memory core to be extracted first."

I knew he'd sidestepped my first question, but I expect that. I gave him another question to avoid answering: "Why? What's so important about this memory core?"

"That is none of your concern." He snapped, "You are under no condition to attempt to examine the core yourself. Just bring back the platform and we will extract what we need from it and return it to you."

"And the Asari?"

"If she's alive and it doesn't compromise your mission, bring her back too."

"You're all heart Crux. So how am I getting to this planet? I don't own my own ship."

"We have made arrangements for that too. I believe you're already acquainted with Captain Hermean." I wasn't surprised to hear that name. I wasn't especially happy either. Prior to my arrival at Illium I had been serving on a ship called The Naglear as a bodyguard for it's Turian captain, a smuggler by the name of Barbarus Hermean. The job mostly involved standing around and trying to look intimidating. I signed up because it seemed like the perfect deal, dextro food, easy credits and free travel around the Terminus systems. Unfortunately as far as my pilgrimage was concerned I may as well have been working as a cook in a Turian prison. The ship was grim and the company was worse. Hermean himself was not the best example of a Turian you could come across. He was scheming, corrupt and greedy, but like any dirty Turian he found ways to convince himself it was somehow for the greater good.

Crux returned to his desk and sat down. He leaned forward, flashed his smile again and said: "So Kal'Reegar, do we have an agreement?"

We did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The Naglear is a battered old Turian Frigate. From the looks of it, it was decommissioned around the time the first stars were forming in the Galaxy. Barbarus Hermean no doubt picked it up real cheap. He made a number of improvements to the vessel, increasing speed, durability and most importantly (to him at least) it's cargo capacity. The downside of this is there is very little space for the crew to operate in. That's fine with Captain Hermean though, gives him an excuse to keep as small a crew as possible. That way he doesn't have to split the profit too many ways. The main crew is a mere five people, one Batarian, two Humans, a Volus and Hermean himself. I never bothered to ask any of their names and they never bothered to ask mine. The Humans seem to be technicians, the Batarian is the pilot and the Volus is Hermeans' personal accountant. Usually there are a couple of hired bodyguards and until recently I was one of them. It seems old Barbarus doesn't trust the muscle long enough for them to become a permanent part of the crew. Probably afraid they'll ask for a proper cut. For this trip it seems he has skipped on the security, I would guess at the Shadow Brokers request.

Despite it's small size, the inside of the ship doesn't feel too cramped. The command deck is split into two halves, the front features the cockpit and navigation, while in the rear is the recreation and mess hall area dominated by a large poker table (that doubles as the Volus' office when a game is not in session). The next level is crew quarters and engineering and then the rest of the ship is all cargo hold. I had found my way to my usual hang out on the ship, a worn out old green couch that looked about as out of place as a piece of furniture could on a starship. I found it strangely comfortable, I guess I like the little luxuries. The Volus was sitting at the poker table as he always seemed to be, doing some calculations on his terminal. He was hunched over and muttering to himself while breathing heavily as Volus do. I always thought their suits seemed a little primitive, but then their needs are very different to Quarians. They don't do much to customise their suits either. This Volus was wearing the traditional brown number you see almost everywhere. He had barely acknowledged my presence since I came back on board. I decided it was time for some questions.

"So, what's your take on all this?" I asked him,

He paused from his work and turned his head towards me, taking in a long breath as Volus do before speaking, "My take, clanless one, is that I need to figure out how to make the most of this detour your presence has forced on us." He took another long breath, "We usually plan all our trading far in advance, but this assignment has ruined all that". He paused for a moment, looking me over as if to judge my credit value , then took another breath and continued "It is fortunate that the money we were offered for this detour should outweigh the loss we'll make on our current cargo. Still, my job is to minimise that loss when we arrive at Lorek.

"Well, sorry to inconvenience you" I told him, "By the way, the name's Kal'Reegar not clanless one"

There was another long breath, though it could very well have been a snort too. "So the Quarian thinks that because he has upgraded from thug to cargo, we are now on a first name basis? I don't think so clanless one." He returned to his work almost immediately, clearly not caring to continue the conversation. In normal circumstances that would have irritated me, but I had more important things on my mind. I decided it was time to go and speak to the captain of this vessel and see what he knew, or at least what he was willing to tell me. The captain would be in his cabin on mid deck. I got up off the worn old couch and made my way to the lift.

The lift clunked and whirled it's way up to me. The original lift in the ship had been replaced along time ago with what was essentially an old cargo lift. Basically just a big yellow platform with a wire cage around three of the sides. As I got in, I noticed the Volus cursing to himself, seems he was going to struggle to maximise profits on this trip. The lift motor started again and I gradually lost sight of the command deck, the poker table with the little Volus and the worn out couch that I found so comfortable.

Captain Barbarus Hermean was in the engineering section of the ship debating power efficiency with one of the technicians, a short scruffy looking dark haired Human in blue workman's coveralls. The conversation appeared to be over, at least as far as Captain Hermean was concerned, and he turned to face me as I excited the lift. He was perhaps a little short for a Turian at just under six foot, and had a pale greenish skin tone and his face was marked with dark blue paint symbolising whatever colony he originated from. Probably the most notable feature of his face was the long scar across the right side of his face, with a dark cybernetic eye at the centre of it. I would guess it was from a very nasty knife wound, but I never asked about it and the only friendly conversation I ever had with the rest of the crew involved them advising me never to do so. He wore battered old dark red combat armour of a kind that is common amongst Turian scouts and snipers, designed to provide good protection while maintaining maximum mobility and not fatiguing the user over long periods.

"Well this is a turn around for the books" he said loudly, walking towards me "The cargo has come to check on the ships' Captain! So how is my one time bodyguard doing?"

"I'd be better if I knew why you were doing this." I replied. "Is it just money or does Crux have something on you?"

He was right in front of me now and he dropped the level of his voice and leaned over staring into my visor like he was trying to read the expression on my face inside it "I have my reasons Kal'Reegar. Suffice to say it is in my best interests and let's leave it at that". I knew not to press the issue, but it was clear there was something other than money at stake here.

"Fair enough, but if you know anything about my mission it would be useful if you were to share it."

"What I know is that I have to take an unplanned detour on my trade route, that I'm to drop you at an old Asari research station on Lorek, That I will have to make what trades I can there and sacrifice a good portion of my cargo capacity for the return journey to make space for whatever you will be collecting from there. I don't know what you're collecting and I don't care. My only concern is that it gets back to Illium and after that, as far as I'm concerned" he sneered "you can both go to hell."

"So what about Lorek? You been there?"

"Lorek is a paradise!" He laughed "Providing you like red! With that suit of yours you should be practically invisible. hah!" He looked over my custom red suit with a smirk on his face. I can't say I'm especially fond of red, but with so much metallic grey around the fleet a lot of us like having something more colourful on our suits and I wasn't about to go for a floral pattern.

"So, anything useful or just jokes about the suit?"

"The planet is tidally locked to a red dwarf. The only habitable areas are in constant sunset and the crazy weather patterns tend to cause heavy fog. So yeah, it's very red. Other than that it's a fairly normal world. The native fauna tends to be black or at least dark shades. Overall the place looks like some twisted dream. The Batarians seem to like it anyway, at least I assume more than Asari did or else they wouldn't have given it up so easily. As a trade route it's poor at best, the Batarians there are pretty inconsistent. One day they will be stocking up on weapons to repel the local Warlords and Mercenary groups, the next they realise they are overstocked and sell them off. If I was lazy I could probably just about make a living buying and selling them the same guns! Hah! But that takes too long and eventually they'd figure it out. They aren't Krogans after all!" He got serious again for a moment "Oh yes, just so you know, there will be no hand holding down there. I'm dropping you off at the coordinates we were given, which turns out to be an old Asari comm station and then I'm off to see what trades I can make in this dump. We'll come back for you when you're done!"

"I would certainly appreciate it. Much as I like red, I have no plans on becoming part of the landscape." I can't say I was keen on being dropped onto a Batarian world with no back up, but it's not like I have a choice any more.

"Don't look so concerned. We're with you until you have the merchandise. Without that we don't get paid. Now if we're done here, I have Humans to shout at!" He said that with a smile on his face, but I could tell he planned to do exactly that. Old Barbarus takes efficiency seriously.

"Fine, thanks for the information. I guess I'll get back to my couch"

"Hah! I don't know how you can stand that old couch, smells live Varren piss to me". With that, he went his way and I returned to the cargo lift. Nothing much to do now but wait.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

We took the Naglears only shuttle to the coordinates Salvador Crux gave Captain Hermean. While in transit, I took a moment to soak up the view. We travelled in from from the direction of the lighter sun facing side towards our destination. Parts of this world could be mistaken for your average hot jungle world, save perhaps for the massive storms, but as we approached the central band of habitability and the land of perpetual sunset came into view things began to look far more alien. Lorek's sun Fathar casts a dim red light across the landscape. The planet is mostly water, but what land it has is thick with vegetation, most of which is very dark or even black in colour, presumably to better absorb the poor low frequency light of it's parent star. Our destination is a fair way from the central city area of the planet, an isolated Asari outpost mostly used as a communication hub. As we approach I notice a thick fog across the landscape, presumably a side effect of the water migration between the light and dark sides of the planet. Great, like visibility wasn't already going to be a problem. As I switch my visor to infra-red mode it occurs to me that any native wildlife on this planet would probably need to see naturally in the infra-red spectrum or have some other form of navigation than standard vision if it is to thrive in this environment. So far I hadn't had an excuse to use that suit modification, but now I am suddenly glad I had it installed. I figured at the time it was probably more useful than Nerve-Stim-Pro, not much need for that one in combat situations.

The Asari outpost was visible now. A thin metal needle sticking out of the fog, clearly Asari in design (smooth, tall and with a broad arched base). I could see the cool surface of a small lake through the fog thanks to my now enhanced vision. It seemed this was a rockier area with less vegetation. Good, I'm not keen on jungles, too many insects. I couldn't see the heat signatures of any warm blooded life forms down there, though I doubt I would see them if they were inside the structure anyway. At this point it occurred to me that if there were active Geth down their they probably wouldn't be giving off a lot of heat. That thought sent a shudder down my spine. One day I hope to test my combat skills against those metal bastards, but I was really hoping to do it with a platoon of fellow Quarians at my side. That and perhaps a rocket launcher. I didn't fancy my chances against our synthetic nemesis today.

Hermean set the shuttle down a short way from the station, next to a small jetty on the lake. "Your stop" he said. I think he was grinning but it's always hard to tell with Turians. Not that he could tell what my facial expressions were either, which is probably for the best. I quickly checked to make sure the communicator he gave me was functional and leapt out of the shuttle, which departed almost instantly behind me. Time to get to work.

First of all I made a quick sweep of the area surrounding the large arched base of the structure. There were a number of metal crates scattered around both outside the facility and by the jetty, none really looked large enough to store a dormant Geth. I dug around in a few of them anyway, doesn't hurt to do a bit of salvaging while I have the opportunity. There wasn't much of value, some old Asari food ration packs (no use to me), a few bits of circuitry and some power cells. I felt a little disappointed, though it's not like I was expecting to find an arsenal of weapons or a big pile of credits. I made my way around to the front entrance, which opened automatically to welcome me as I approached. Strange, I would expect a structure like this to be locked. I made the wireless connection between my Omni-Tool and the door's computer system. A diagnostic report suggested the door would indeed normally be locked, but that someone had utilised a brute force hacking program to disable it. Crude, but effective providing you don't wish to lock it again in a hurry. It didn't seem like the kind of thing an Asari would do to gain access to an Asari comm station. I drew my Stinger IV out of it's holster and cautiously made my way inside, keeping an eye out for both heat signatures and anything else that may be moving around in here.

The main hall inside the station was a large domed affair with a two tier structure, the higher level surrounding the lower in an arch with stairs leading up to it. The upper tier seemed to be filled with computer consoles and a railing ran the length of it partitioning it from the level below. A couple of tall arched pillars supported the hall and two passageways lead off somewhere else at the rear of the room, either side of the stairway. There were a few artificial plants scattered around to make the place seem more welcoming. This effect was damaged somewhat by the obvious signs of a small battle. Singes of weapons fire marked some of the white metal walls, dried blood stained the floor and one of the railings on the upper level was bent and twisted out by what I would guess was a biotic explosion. Right now things didn't look very good for Monata T'Mar. The lack of bodies and the current air of silence around the station suggested the likely outcome was that whomever had attacked, had taken her alive. It's possible this had nothing to do with the merchandise in her possession and there was a chance it could still be here. Too much of a coincidence perhaps, but sometimes people are just unlucky. Even Asari.

My search of the station turned up very little else. No dormant Geth and no clue as to who may have taken the Asari. A whole lot of dead end. I hacked into a console in the entrance hall and dug up the stations communication records. I located the files but the encryption was too heavy to break easily, so I uploaded them to my Omni-Tool for later. Then I hacked the station security cameras to see if I could dig up any footage of the attack. It was a simple system and I didn't expect anyone but amateurs to leave evidence there. Sure enough all the archive material had been wiped and the cameras had been set to stop recording future material. All that could be accessed was the current feed. I watched this for a moment, wondering what my next move would be when I noticed movement on one of the external cameras. Ground vehicles approaching the station and at high speed! Hard to tell the numbers in the fog via the camera feed, but it looked like two. I had to move fast and hope the fog would give me adequate cover. I made my way outside and positioned myself behind one of the larger crates by the jetty. Seemed to be a good position to scope out whoever was approaching. It's possible they are friendly, but I would very much doubt that. It's also possible that whomever was responsible for the fire fight inside has returned and perhaps have both the Asari and the Geth in their possession. With luck I can get the jump on them and then find some answers.

As the vehicles drew closer I could see that it was indeed two, heavy duty multi-terrain vehicles of some kind. I couldn't see any markings on them to give away anything about who was inside. They were noisy beasts of vehicles though and that put my nerves on edge. I am taking quite a risk here, if they are equipped with infra-red sensory equipment they could possibly spot me back here and I'll loose my one advantage. The vehicles stopped, though they left their engines going and I could hear loud shouting over the roar. Not many species can shout that loud and I could feel my nerves were way past the edge and now hanging off the side of a cliff face. My fears were soon confirmed as I say the unmistakable outline of Krogan through the depth of the fog. This wasn't going to be a fight I can win. My only option was going to be staying hidden and I didn't like my chances behind this crate. As quietly as I could I backed away from the crate and slipped down into the lake. My suit can sustain me without air for a considerable amount of time and hopefully if they do have heat sensing equipment the cool waters of the lake will help mask it.

I sank down to the depth of the lake, looking up I could no longer see the Krogan or their vehicles, just the dim red of eternally setting sun. I could still hear the vibration of the engines and hoped that would be enough to inform me for their departure. Why would Krogan be here? Perhaps they are mercenaries, but if they are I doubt they're the ones responsible for the mess inside. That would suggest, including the Shadow Broker, at least three groups are after this dormant Geth or whatever information it has in it's memory core. With the Brokers resources you would think he could keep such a thing quiet or at least pay off the local mercenaries to look the other way. I spent a long time considering my next move should I not be discovered and wondering how many Krogans I could take out by myself with just a heavy pistol if I am. I watched time tick away on my chronometer, focusing on it so as to not get too disorientated in this state of virtual suspended animation down in the depths of this lake in a land with no day or night.

Eventually I heard the increased rumble of the Krogans vehicles. They must be preparing to leave. Perhaps not all of them, but if any are left behind at least now I may have a reasonable chance and perhaps may even get some answers. I decided to give it a few extra minutes to be sure, and for the first time I noticed something that had been at the edge of my vision the whole time – A faint heat signature. Neither warm nor large enough for another person and it hadn't moved the whole time I was down here. I made my way towards it and as I drew closer to it, I saw through the murky water that the heat was coming from an Omni-Tool. The detail in my vision cleared as I got closer and I could make out more in the visible colour range. The thing I saw before me was the blackened a bloated remains of something that used to be an Asari. It seems I found the Shadow Brokers contact after all. She was weighed down by several metal harpoons that perforated her body. One appeared to have hit her directly through her eye and her head was distorted in an expression of sheer horror that was visible even despite the bloating. As horrrible an image as this was, it did answer some questions. This was the work of Batarian mercenaries and that meant Blue Suns. There was more information to be gained here and only one way of getting it. I drew my boot knife and began to cut away at the arm of the former Mrs T'Mar to free her Omni-Tool. You can store a lot of information on one of those things if you have a mind to, perhaps this can give me more of an idea what I am up against. What little blood was left in the corpse oozed out through the wounds adding streaks of blue into the murky grey waters under the dim red sun.

The made my way to the surface and the air was silent now and very still. There were no Krogan left behind at the station. No doubt they found as little as I had, less perhaps. Were they Blood Pack mercenaries I wondered? Technology isn't really their thing and it's rare for two mercanary groups to be involved in the same deal. It didn't feel right. Still, I have one lead and perhaps more depending on what information I can extract from the Omni-Tool. I contacted the Naglear via my communicator. Looks like Captain Hermean was going to have to make another trip to get his pay. There is one place in the Terminus Systems you can be sure to find mercenaries and that is where I had to go, right into the hornets nest. Next stop – Omega.


End file.
